


Becoming

by Miss_L



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Will Knows, au-ish, not sure what else to put here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:04:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will figures it out. But he wants to understand, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an experiment, so please don't eat my liver! :)  
> Takes place after Oeuf, and is an alternative time-line in which Will already knows the truth about Hannibal before he gets real sick.  
> No infringement on copyright intended, the works ;)

A few chance words, only half-heard, and Will knew. It was difficult to believe, even more difficult to accept; but every tasteless little pun made at the dinner table – no doubt only meant for the doctor’s own entertainment – and every furtive glance Abigail shot Hannibal confirmed Will’s hypothesis-gone-knowledge of who and what the psychiatrist really was. Underneath the paisley ties and fine eau de cologne, a monster was thriving. 

And really, he should have arrested the man, or at least told Jack, but he was certain there would be no evidence. At least not enough to warrant searching for more. Hannibal was a perfectionist, very clever and thorough. Like Hobbs, except Hobbs had been sloppy in his attachment to a certain type. In putting a victim back when he couldn't honour her. Hannibal would make no emotional mistakes. So Will decided to wait until the Chesapeake Ripper left a warm body to investigate.

In the meanwhile, he studied the Ripper-murders, deep in the night. Then the copycat ones he knew of. As time passed, filled with little sleep – riddled with worse nightmares than ever – and feeble attempts at helping Jack _and_ maintaining a semblance of normalcy, he studied old unsolved murders all over the United States, and in other countries he knew Hannibal had been. It took a little while, but Agent Graham was now confident he knew exactly which killings were made by Doctor Lecter, no matter how different his M.O. had been.

He would try to use their little talks to get to know more about Hannibal’s “secret life”, as discreetly as possible, hang around the man’s kitchen as he was cooking, nagging on about Alana and Jack – most probably to Hannibal’s great annoyance – visit Abigail when Doctor Lecter was with her. He even took to reading the _Tattler_. And yet, after three months, not one good clue. Will started getting strange looks from Hannibal during their sessions. It wouldn't take long for the man to figure out that he knew everything. William needed to do something about that – he couldn't lose the connection now. He was close, he could feel it in his gut.

With his immune system already weakened by little sleep and cold weather, it didn't take long for Graham to develop a viral infection – just a couple of fishing trips and some freezing cold water in his shoes. It traveled to his brain in no time, giving him an excuse for strange behavior. He noticed another advantage that came with his sickness – Doctor Lecter suddenly had an increased interest in his “well-being”. He knew that Hannibal knew exactly what was wrong with him – he was certain that the man didn't need to practically bury his nose in Will’s shoulder to smell his after-shave – but the psychiatrist’s insistence that the cause of his hallucinations and sleep-walking was purely psychological gave him a good opportunity to see that destructive intelligence turned towards him.

Watching Doctor Lecter save the unfortunate kidney-donor’s life was strange – encephalitis or not, he almost gave himself away there. When the organ-killings continued – or, rather, started – as the Ripper’s new modus operandi, Will was conflicted, but only for a moment. He realised, standing in the forensics lab, that he didn't want Hannibal behind bars and bullet-proof glass. He wanted to study this rare and beautiful butterfly in its natural habitat, not pinned down, dead, in a display case. So he kept his mouth shut and went along with the black market-theory. 

And Hannibal was indeed a stunning and fascinating specimen. The way he pretended to be normal – amazing. No slip-ups, not once. Will sometimes spent his free time running old conversations through his head. No. Never a mistake. It was eerie, even for a highly intelligent sociopath. He adapted perfectly. And Will had never come across his type of – could he even be called crazy? – before. If he had been a modern gadget-sniffer, Agent Graham would probably have labelled Hannibal Lecter “next generation psychopath”. No emotions. No mistakes. And no mercy. Pure survival. Will was beyond intrigued. He needed to understand, to soak up the knowledge of Hannibal’s mind like a big sponge, to puzzle all parts of this cannibalistic serial killer’s personality together into the coherent picture he saw before him almost every day. He needed to _know._


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal opened the door and inhaled sharply at the unfamiliar sight in front of him. Will Graham in impeccable suit - not tailored, but very handsome all the same - with a bottle of good wine in his hand. His confident smile shone like Christmas lights. Doctor Lecter smiled and opened the door wider.

"Please come in, William."

Will followed the psychiatrist inside the dining room, speeding up as Hannibal turned the corner towards the kitchen. Graham put his strong arms around the older man, right hand on his mouth, left hand on his heart. _What's going..? William!_ Hannibal was too stunned to scream, but the dread filling his gut was unmistakable. Will inhaled the smell of fear like one would fill one's lungs with a lover's perfume. 

He brings his right arm around, elbow under Hannibal's chin. The doctor does not struggle. _Good man,_ Will thinks, _Good, dignified way to go._ Doctor Lecter goes limp in his mighty arms. The bottle Will brought falls softly on the carpet. Graham lets go of the body and picks up the wine.

The table is already set, the smell of jugged hare emanating from the kitchen. Former Special Agent Will Graham turns on the stereo - Nocturne No. 2 in E flat. _Very nice_ \- and goes to the kitchen. He comes back with a decorated plate with his portion on it and the opened bottle. He pours his glass and sits at the head of the table.

He should not stay too long, the dead man's patients _(pathetic bunch)_ are certain to report him missing in the morning. But for now, he's got the time. Will closes his eyes and enjoys the music. This is the last time he will be known as Will Graham. He'll go to Europe, he's sure he'll like it. He opens his eyes and picks up the knife and fork.

He dines alone and he is not lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this: http://theblogofsillywalks.tumblr.com/post/53313977165/hannibal-au-will-graham-is-the-cannibal-and  
> But mostly this: http://25.media.tumblr.com/6dc3e1cfec413974a78028b6368cbcfd/tumblr_mom3qy8Ocb1rrg7tko2_1280.jpg  
> Yisssss ^-^
> 
> (Sorry, I suck at hyperlinks :()
> 
> Oh, and I obviously quoted/paraphrased a bit of _Hannibal Rising_. So yeah. All hail Thomas Harris! ;)


End file.
